a Piano, a Birthday Gift, and a Marker
by ransa ga shinda
Summary: An old crack fic.


i wrote this when i was 12, during the height of the hetalia craze. take that for what you will.

(tangentially based on my former days playing an ESTONIA brand piano.)

without further ado:

* * *

CRACKINESS RATING: 100,000/100

AMOUNT OF EDITING: -100,000/100

_YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED_

DISCLAIMER: CHARACTERS BEAR NO RESEMBLANCE TO THE REAL LIFE COUNTRIES OF THIS WORLD

Once upon a time, Roderich Edelstein, also known as the personification of Austria, was angrily attempting to seek revenge on Gilbert, personification of the former kingdom of Prussia. What happened was something akin to this - Prussia had somehow wormed his way into Austria's house, somehow managed to ransack his fridge, and _somehow _managed to completely destroy his piano. For the love of God, that was a Steinway grand from the 1800s!

Austria immediately assumed that the only way to take revenge on that egocentric prick would be to hire Elizabeta, or Hungary, to destroy Gilbert's belongings as well. Except—that was easier said than done. First of all, Hungary was off meeting someone else to apparently show off her rather suspicious videos captured from the security camera, and provided, Austria had terrible directional capabilities to boot. And so, he alone was stuck with - one, finding Prussia's house (although that shouldn't have been as much of a problem as it was; Prussia was his neighbor!), and two, inviting himself in. Prussia, for someone so reckless, somehow paid _much _more attention to locking his doors than Austria himself did.

Well, so he guessed that that plan wasn't going to work very well. Therefore, Austria opted for his second, simpler plan, that wasn't much of a plan nor did it deal much revenge to that annoying albino nation. "Go buy a piano for his birthday." Simplest option. Might not be the same antique first edition that Prussia effing ruined, but he couldn't save _that _poor instrument, could he? Besides, his birthday was coming up in what, two days? The local piano store would be graced with his presence quite soon.

On Austria's birthday, the first thing he heard was the doorbell. Yeah. Not the most pleasant thing to wake up to. He assumed it was another one of those fundraising people, coming too early in the morning and pretty much forcing him to buy something or another. He had grown sick of chocolate cookies long before that. Austria wearily got up from bed, choosing to ignore the poor person standing at the door, and got ready for the morning, dressing in formal attire as he usually did. Another ring of the doorbell, as he made his way downstairs. With frustrated steps, Austria decided he would just shoo away this random kid.

Wait. _Wait. _Estonia? Austria blinked a few times, wondering if this was some sort of messed up dream or not induced by Prussia's invasion of his house, because _did he see a piano behind the Baltic nation whatwasthismadness. _The other nation personification quietly adjusted his glasses while he waited for Austria to say something, rather than stand there as if Austria had just seen Russia instead of himself. Eduard had read about Prussia's unfortunate "victory" over Austria on the self-proclaimed King of Awesome's blog. And of course, what better a gift than giving Austria one of his own pianos? It was the other's birthday, after all.

A few more seconds passed before Austria finally snapped out of his trance. He gathered his posture and greeted the fellow piano playing nation.

"Oh, hello, Estonia. I really am quite sorry to have made you wait that long." He decided he wouldn't go into detail on how he'd mistaken the nation as a regular kid. "What brings you here? Don't you have plans over in East Europe?"

"I'd just come to wish you a happy birthday, Austria. I saw the unfortunate incident on Prussia's blog, so I kind of hoped my gift would, you know, uhm…." Estonia seemed to be looking for the right word to use, because that phrase he was _going_ to use had certainly sounded better in his mind, and he didn't want Austria to think that Estonia's piano would replace his own. "Help compensate." He nodded quickly in a nervous somehow-I-feel-like-this-won't-end-well way. Fortunately for him, Austria, despite his rather cold and formal ways, was much more understanding than Russia.

What happened after that chance meeting and more talking was, in a nutshell, the worst job at moving furniture the world would've ever seen. How the piano ever fit in the doorway was an unsolved mystery in itself. But then after that Austria found himself quite liking the piano as Estonia left him to his own things, even though he didn't believe it could ever compare to his Steinway. Well, beggars couldn't be choosers, and Austria, however stingy he was, could definitely make do with this until he _really_ needed a new piano again.

Well, of course, until the pianist took the music off the stand.

"_WHY IS HE AS ARROGANT AS THAT PRUSSIAAAA? HIS PIANO'S NAMED AFTER HIMSELF?!"_

* * *

Omake: In Which Austria Procures a Marker

Austria, grabbing the first marker he saw which just so happened to be the one which saved the nations from those utterly terrible Pictonians, proceeded to save himself from the terrible (not really) name that resided on his new instrument.

The next day, pleased with his handiwork, Austria played Chopin's Nocturne in G minor on the piano which now sported an AUSTRIA in fancy calligraphy caps above the original (crossed out) ESTONIA.

_Fin_.


End file.
